


We’re Not Dead Yet

by blackwatchandromeda



Series: Overwatch Spirits AU [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, But not quite, Canon-Typical Violence, Deadeye (Overwatch), Established Relationship, Ghost Jesse McCree, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Noodle Dragons, Post-Recall, Spirit Fuckery, almost an AU, does it count as character death if they’re still alive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-08-01 17:02:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16288436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackwatchandromeda/pseuds/blackwatchandromeda
Summary: Jesse McCree is dead.He will not, however, leave Hanzo Shimada alone.title from the Frank Turner song “Get Better”





	1. Spirit

**Author's Note:**

> hey everyone! i’ve been working on this fic for a while, and i’m super excited to put it out! it’s all finished and written, so a regular update schedule is a certainty. without further ado, here we go!

 

The first time Hanzo sees him, he thinks he's going mad.

 

It happens just after the funeral, when the members of Overwatch are filtering out in half-stunned, half-saddened silence. Hanzo stays behind in the room, staring at the photo of Jesse propped up against the little walnut-wood box they chose to store his favourite possessions in.

 

There’s no coffin; they couldn’t get to Jesse’s remains, no matter how hard they tried, and eventually they had to abandon him to save their own lives, but they can bury some of his things. His spare serape’s in there, as well as a scattering of bullets from Peacekeeper and a pack of his favourite brand of cigars. Miraculously, they managed to retrieve Peacekeeper herself; the gun looks dull, lying alone in the box.

 

Hanzo stays staring for a little while, long enough that all the other Overwatch members have left, lost in thought. It doesn’t seem real that Jesse is gone. Jesse McCree was supposed to be the man who defies odds and comes out riding into the sunset. Not the one who dies.

 

“Wish they’d chosen a better photo,” comes a drawling voice, and Hanzo’s blood runs icy. He turns to stare at the figure leaning on the wall to his left, looking at the picture with a smile. “I mean, I look so fuckin’ out of it, heh. Shoulda used that one of us in Hanamura, remember the one?”

 

Hanzo jerks away. He doesn’t believe his eyes; _can’t_ , in fact, because Jesse McCree _cannot_ be standing in front of him. It’s impossible, but Hanzo’s heart starts beating faster anyway.

 

“You alright, honeybee? You’re lookin’ a little pale,” Jesse says, coming closer and looking concerned.

 

“No. You are dead,” Hanzo whispers, blood rushing in his ears. “How - you are _dead_ ,” he repeats

 

“I’m right here, Han,” Jesse reassures, but Hanzo shakes his head.

 

“You are not - I am - I must be seeing things,” the archer mutters, more to himself than to not-Jesse.

 

“Hanzo?”

 

Hanzo’s gaze jerks to the end of the room, where Genji is standing in the doorway.

 

“Who are you talking to, _aniki_?”

 

Hanzo glances back to Jesse, but he’s vanished without a trace, and the archer is left openmouthed and staring.

 

Genji comes closer, putting a hand on Hanzo’s shoulder. “It’s okay,” he says quietly. “I’m here.”

 

The room is suddenly cold now that not-Jesse has gone, and Hanzo goes still for a moment before he relaxes into the hug Genji gives him.

 

\- - -

 

Hanzo hallucinates Jesse three more times, and each encounter is worse than the last.

 

He doesn’t see the cowboy for a week or so after that first time, until he’s sitting in the weekly Overwatch _Festessen_ , as Reinhardt calls it. The giant usually corrals together several of the more culinarily-inclined members of the team (Mei, Satya and the Crusader himself among them) to cook a variety of dishes, and everyone comes together to enjoy them. It’s an important way of keeping themselves grounded.

 

This time, though, Hanzo feels anything but. The food is good as always, and he’s sandwiched comfortably between Genji and Hana, two of the people he’s closest to in Overwatch. There’s an underlying feeling of wrongness that unsettles him, and it worsens once something catches his eye. Hanzo narrows his gaze and cranes his neck to see. It’s almost like a heat shimmer, a slight rippling disturbance in the air.

 

As Hanzo sets eyes on it, it flickers for a second before materialising into a familiar shape. Hanzo nearly chokes on his _biryani_  at the sight of Jesse, standing there with frustration on his face.

 

Jesse opens his mouth, clearly forming words, but Hanzo can’t hear any sound from him. His expression is swirling with agitation, and from the way his mouth is moving it looks like he’s yelling silently. Hanzo ducks his head away from the apparition; it’s not making sound, so he tries his best to ignore it.

 

“You good, Hanzo?” Lúcio asks, looking concerned after Hanzo’s near-choking fit.

 

The archer nods. “I am fine. I apologise for the disturbance.”

 

Genji shoots him a sideways glance as the conversation around the table returns. “ _Are you okay_?” he asks in Japanese.

 

“ _Yes. I - yes_ ,” Hanzo says, cutting himself off before he can say anything else. His hallucinations of Jesse are _not real_. He should be able to deal with them by himself; he doesn’t need to worry Genji.

 

“ _If you’re sure_.” Genji returns to his food after giving Hanzo a searching look, though there’s a slight tightness around his scarred mouth. Hanzo tries to ignore it, focusing on his own meal.

 

When he next looks up, Jesse is gone.

 

The second time is in the training range, when Hanzo’s in the midst of emptying his quiver over and over into the static target setup. It’s his way of channeling his emotions; he can attach the overwhelming feelings to his arrows, and fire them away from him. It might not make sense, but it usually helps him; except, of course, if he sees a ghost in the middle of his session.

 

It’s not like the other appearances. This time, Jesse looks faded and washed-out in colour, and his image flickers unpredictably. He goes through the motions as Hanzo watches, mouth dry, firing Peacekeeper repeatedly with focus. He doesn’t seem to notice Hanzo watching; this version of Jesse is almost like a memory, Hanzo thinks, a replay of sorts in comparison to the previous interactive hallucinations. The archer’s mouth is dry as he watches. Jesse keeps firing, emptying a couple of rounds into the target before he pauses.

 

“Goddamn, darlin’. I reckon you’re the first person to beat me,” Jesse says suddenly, his voice far-away, and with a jolt Hanzo realises Jesse is looking in his direction. His gaze moves, though, tracking something invisible to Hanzo’s eyes, moving to the target flickering at the end of the training range.

 

There’s a pause, and then Jesse laughs. Hanzo swallows the lump in his throat. “I guess so, honeybee. C’mere.”

 

Hanzo watches as Jesse holsters Peacekeeper and walks towards the target. He’s in the middle of reaching his arms out to someone when his image flickers and wavers, and disappears. Hanzo lets out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding.

 

He _remembers_ that memory. It was when Hanzo was relatively new to Overwatch, and Jesse challenged him to a shooting contest. Hanzo beat him for the first time, and Jesse clapped him on the back as congratulations before immediately challenging him again. It’s what sparked their long-running sharpshooting war, and Hanzo just relived it before his very eyes. His eyes feel hot; Hanzo reaches up a hand to find out that they’re watering. It’s the final straw. He collects his stuff with a clenched jaw and leaves the training range quickly, heading to his room and propping up Storm Bow. Damn Winston’s safety rules; he can’t muster the will to put the weapon back in the armory right now. Hanzo sits in the corner of the room, burying his head in his knees and trying not to think about Jesse.

 

The cowboy is all he _can_ think of.

 

The third appearance is unfortunately timed, in the middle of a mission briefing. Unlike the other times, Hanzo can’t see Jesse when it begins. The only symptom is the sound.

 

At first, it’s just a tickle on the edge of Hanzo’s consciousness. He can’t quite place the notes or the rhythm, but it’s familiar. As the brief goes on, though, it develops and gets louder. Hanzo’s heart drops lower and lower as it gets clearer. He recognises the song; Jesse used to sing it often. Hanzo remembers Jesse telling him his old mentor taught it to him. It sounded so much happier when Jesse sang it; now, devoid of backing, or beat, or a face behind the voice, it’s haunting.

 

_Besame, besame mucho,_

_Como si fuera está noche_

_La última vez._

 

“Agent Shimada?” comes a voice, and Hanzo blinks and looks up to see everyone staring at him. Winston is frowning. Hanzo realises he must have been humming along to the song, because the tune sounds a little fainter now.

 

“Sorry,” he mutters, averting his gaze from the scientist. “Please, carry on.”

 

Winston turns back to the presentation, a blueprint of Volskaya Industries. He, Genji, Angela, Hana, Lúcio and Hanzo form the team that will deploy in one day to Russia to meet with the company’s CEO. Winston suspects she’s been in contact with Talon, and Aleksandra Zaryanova all but confirmed it when she joined Overwatch. The six of them will go to negotiate with Volskaya, keeping watch for Talon activity simultaneously.

 

“Angela, I’d like you to help me talk to Katya. Hanzo, you’ll keep a lookout from the roof. Hana and Genji will be ready to respond to your signal.”

 

Winston talks about Lúcio next, and Hanzo tries to focus; he honestly tries. Winston’s voice is slowly fading out, though, replaced by the soft humming. It’s coming from outside the room. Hanzo twists his fingers around each other, trying to block it out.

 

_Piensa que tal vez mañana_

_Yo ya estaré lejos_

_Muy lejos de ti._

 

Hanzo stands up as the humming rises, slightly unsteady, and Genji’s visor flashes as Winston stops talking.

 

“I apologise, I need to - some air,” he murmurs, messing up the sentence slightly. He needs to get to the source of the tune. He needs to find whoever is singing it. He vaguely hears Genji saying his name, but Hanzo’s already stumbling out of the room.

 

He follows the sound almost unconsciously, navigating on autopilot. Hanzo feels the warm, outside air against his skin before he realises he’s at the cliffside, on the Gibraltar roof facing out to sea. He registers a familiar figure sitting on the roof, in Hanzo’s usual spot, arms resting on his knees. He’s looking out towards the ocean, face shaded, humming. When Hanzo takes a step away, the sound stops.

 

Hanzo’s gut churns.

 

Jesse looks over to him, trapping Hanzo with his gaze. “Hey,” he says.

 

Hanzo briefly considers going back to the briefing, but he’s not prepared to deal with the odd stares he’s bound to get. He could return to his room, but Genji is probably looking for him, ready to interrogate him. The only other place Hanzo frequents, where he feels comfortable, is this cliffside.

 

Wordlessly, he stalks over to the edge of the roof and sits as far from Jesse as he can, letting his legs hang freely over the side. He reaches for his belt, trying to ignore the figure to his right.

 

“Figured you need a bit of time, so I left you alone for a bit,” Jesse says, though Hanzo tries not to listen. “Must be a shock, right?”

 

“Leave me alone,” Hanzo mutters, and pops open his sake flask.

 

Jesse looks a little taken aback, but his expression morphs into a strange halfway between concern and disapproval at the sight of the drink. “Hanzo -“ he begins.

 

“How dare you.” The archer’s head whips round, and he glares at Jesse. “I will not take criticism from a - from a _ghost_ ,” he snaps. “You are dead, Jesse McCree, and you have _lost_ the right to judge me.”

 

It’s then that Hanzo realises he is _angry_. He’s angry with Jesse for leaving him alone, even though the feeling is beyond irrational. He’s angry with himself for creating these hallucinations, for being so weak. Hanzo should be strong enough to withstand losing Jesse, but he’s not and he hates it.

 

“Han, I -“

 

“Enough,” Hanzo says sharply. “ _Please_.”

 

Jesse is silent for a second, and Hanzo takes a long drink from the flask. The approaching evening makes the air get colder, somehow, and when Hanzo looks back at Jesse he’s vanished. Hanzo takes a deep breath, resting his head on his knees, wrapping his arms around himself and staring out to the water. 

 

“Hanzo?” comes a voice, and he recognises Genji’s voice. There’s a slight whirring, and Hanzo shifts slightly to see his brother sitting next to him. “ _Aniki_ , tell me what’s wrong.”

 

It takes Hanzo a while to form the words, to begin to explain the hallucinations and the grief and the _weakness_. He takes a deep breath.

 

“I see him, Genji,” he admits finally, quietly. “I’ve seen him in the training range, and here, and in - I’ve heard him, and -“

 

He trails off, unable to find the words, and Genji is silent for a second. “Have you talked to Angela?” His voice is gentle. He knows exactly who Hanzo is referring to.

 

Hanzo shakes his head. “I was not sure my concerns were valid.”

 

“It’s barely been two weeks, _aniki_. You’re allowed to seek help.” Genji puts a hand on Hanzo’s shoulder. “We can help.”

 

“ _How_?” Hanzo whispers, even though it’s not really a question.

 

Genji pauses. “You might not be aware, but Jesse was Angela’s best friend in Overwatch. They were the same age, and they spent a lot of time together. And Fareeha was practically his sister; she's had nearly as bad a loss as you, Hanzo. They can understand. _We_ can understand."

 

Hanzo doesn’t say anything: doesn’t know what to say to that explanation. Instead, he lets himself lean slightly against Genji and shuts his eyes. He’s been so paranoid about seeing Jesse for the last two weeks that he hasn’t been sleeping properly, afraid of seeing the hallucination in his dreams. Hanzo _knows_  he needs more rest, but his mind refuses to switch off.

 

It’s only minutes later, when he registers gentle shaking, that he realises Genji is shifting underneath him and the sky has darkened visibly. Hanzo must have fallen asleep.

 

“Come on, _aniki_. Let’s go and see Angela,” Genji says gently, and Hanzo gets slowly to his feet before following his brother away from the cliff.


	2. Shatter

Hanzo leaves Angela’s office half an hour later with a little capsule of sleeping pills and a direct order to ‘get some rest, even if you see him, and then come back in the morning’. He registers someone leaning against the wall to his left, and turns to see a figure in a wide-brimmed cowboy hat. Jesse takes a step closer, and Hanzo nearly trips in his haste to get away as fast as possible.

 

“Hanzo, wait, Han -“

 

Hanzo balls his fists and starts striding away, averting his gaze. _It’s not real. Ignore it._

 

“For fuck’s sake, Shimada, grow the fuck up and look at me, dammit!” the hallucination swears, and Hanzo nearly breaks at how realistic it sounds. It’s not real, though, not Jesse, and he just needs to keep pushing through it. “Hanzo -“

 

“Quiet,” Hanzo mutters, despite himself, hoping Angela is far enough away not to hear him talking to nothing.

 

He turns to see Jesse standing uncertainly, a look of concern on his face, and Hanzo bites his lip.

 

“I know you are not real,” he says quietly. “ _Please_. Go away.”

 

Jesse's expression shifts and softens, and Hanzo can see the pain behind it. “Is that why - you really think I ain’t real?” he asks. “I thought you knew it was me.”

 

Hanzo squeezes his eyes shut.

 

“I don’t rightly know what the hell happened, Han, but I need you to believe me. I ain’t a hallucination, I remember dyin’ and all that shit and then wakin’ up here. I can’t get anyone else to see me,” Jesse says, frustration lacing with despair in his tone.

 

Hanzo lifts his head, staring at Jesse. “I wish I could believe you,” he says faintly.

 

Jesse curses. “ _Please_ , Han, I’m beggin’ you, I’m real!”

 

“That is exactly what a hallucination would say,” Hanzo whispers.

 

"Goddamnit, Hanzo, just _listen_!" Jesse shouts, and suddenly his eyes flash scarlet and there's a shattering noise, and Hanzo stumbles backwards with a cry. His sake flask has blown apart at his hip, the alcohol leaking out. Both Jesse and Hanzo stare for a moment, before the sound of footsteps clacks through the corridor.

 

“Hanzo?” comes Angela’s voice from around the corner, and she strides into view with concern on her face. “Hanzo, what happened?”

 

Hanzo stands there awkwardly, about to pick up the remnants of the flask on the floor, but pinned by Angela’s gaze. “I... I dropped my flask,” he says vaguely. “I was surprised by it, is all.”

 

It’s a weak explanation at best, but Angela seems to accept it. “Come and get me if you need anything, alright?” she tells him, looking serious. “I mean it, Hanzo. We’re all here for you. Do you need any help clearing it up?”

 

Hanzo swallows and shakes his head, trying to give her a smile despite his jangling nerves, and Angela returns to her office with a half-shaded smile.

 

“What was that for?” he hisses at Jesse as soon as she’s out of sight.

 

Jesse’s expression is caught between excitement and shock as he shakes his head. “I ain’t got a damn clue. I didn’t even mean to, Han, I’m sorry.”

 

“Do it again,” Hanzo demands.

 

“What?”

 

“Do it again,” he repeats. “Tell me what you are aiming for, and then shatter it. There is no way for my subconscious to accurately predict what object in this room will break.”

 

Jesse narrows his eyes. “So if I do this, you’ll believe it’s me?” When Hanzo nods, he grins. “Alright.”

 

Hanzo watches Jesse intently as he scans the room. He looks almost exactly the same as he did the day he died, serape and spurs and all. The only difference is the warmth in his appearance; his skin has always been a rich, warm brown, but now it’s nearly  _glowing_. His serape almost looks like flame.

 

_It’s a hallucination_ , Hanzo reminds himself stubbornly. _Of course he would look unreal._

 

“Found one,” Jesse says suddenly, and points. Hanzo follows his finger to see an ammunition crate by the doorway.

 

“I _refuse_ to let you explode live ammunition,” Hanzo hisses, trying to keep the volume down.

 

Jesse shakes his head. “Nah, I ain’t that dumb. Look on top. See? My comm.”

 

Hanzo walks closer and realises it is indeed Jesse’s, as evidenced by the BAMF sticker plastered on the back. Genji’s doing, he recalls; a joint effort with Fareeha to annoy the cowboy that ultimately failed.

 

“And I’m not askin’ for permission, by the way, it’s mine,” Jesse adds, and when Hanzo turns to glare he’s grinning widely.

 

The archer crosses his arms, trying not to return the smile. He’s already indulging the hallucination; he can’t start _sympathising_ with it, no matter how familiar it looks. “Fine.”

 

Jesse narrows his eyes at the little black device, and Hanzo can see the laserlike focus in his gaze. “C’mon, you fucker,” he mutters.

 

A couple of seconds pass, and the thundering heartbeat in Hanzo’s ears starts to slow and fade. Jesse’s jaw clenches, but the comm stays intact. Hanzo flushes. For a second, he’d nearly believed -

 

Jesse lets out a shout of frustration and red sparks in Hanzo’s vision, and a tinny noise cracks through the corridor. The comm splits down the center, fractures spiderwebbing across the screen as Hanzo stares. It lets out a weak little fizzing sound before it dies.

 

“You’re real,” Hanzo says softly, looking at Jesse. “Jesse, I -“

 

“Shh, honeybee, it’s okay. I got you,” the cowboy says, and draws Hanzo in for a hug.

 

There’s a moment of heat, like Hanzo’s suddenly walked into strong sunlight, and then the archer passes through Jesse’s form and stumbles on the other side. He regains his footing quickly and turns, seeing shock plastered over Jesse’s face.

 

“I ain’t... fuck, Han, I ain’t -“

 

“It’s alright,” Hanzo says, biting his lip. “We can work through this, Jesse.”

 

There’s a pained look in Jesse’s eyes, though he nods. “Yeah. I just... alright.”

 

“Does anyone else know about you?” Hanzo asks.

 

Jesse shakes his head. “No. I couldn’t get anyone else to see me, even when I tried screamin’ at all of you in Reinhardt’s dinner.” He chuckles slightly, despite the situation. “Gave you a shock, though, huh? Sorry ‘bout that.”

 

Hanzo hmphs. “In my defense, I was under the impression you were a hallucination.”

 

Jesse grins. “Sorry, darlin’,” he says. “Imagine I’m huggin’ you, alright? I would if I could, but, y’know, the ghost thing and all that -“

 

“Shut up, cowboy,” Hanzo interrupts, though he’s smiling. “Let’s go. You must explain to me what being dead is like.”

 

Jesse raises an eyebrow. “Unsurprisingly, not that fun.” Hanzo starts walking and Jesse follows, resisting the urge to see if he can pass through the wall. “Where are we goin’?”

 

“I need a drink,” Hanzo says, “and I want to keep our conversation at least somewhat private.”

 

Jesse shrugs. “Fair. Drinkin’ cliff, then?”

 

Hanzo rolls his eyes as he types in the code quickly, the door clicking open to allow them access to the outside portion of the Watchpoint. “I still think it is an idiotic name.”

 

“Hey, it makes sense! It’s a cliff, and all we do there is drink,” Jesse protests.

 

Hanzo shoots him a sly look. “That is _far_ from all we do.”

 

Jesse laughs.

 

\- - -

 

“Doctor Ziegler?”

 

“Yes, Athena?” Angela asks, suppressing a yawn as she picks up another file. She’s been working for several hours, barring her break to talk to Hanzo and the subsequent request of Athena to watch his movements, and the work is beginning to take its toll on her. Midnight isn’t usually that late for Angela, but with recent events she’s under what seems like permanent exhaustion.

 

“Regarding Hanzo Shimada,” Athena begins, and Angela frowns.

 

She stands and crosses the room to her array of tablets, picking up the one reserved for Athena. The blue logo glows softly in the centre of the screen.

 

“Is he in his room?” Angela asks.

 

Athena’s logo flashes; Angela recognises the pattern as her version of disapproval. “No, Doctor. He is currently on the cliffside.”

 

Angela sighs. “ _Gott_ , I knew he wouldn’t listen to me. What is he doing?”

 

“That is what I wanted to alert you to,” Athena says, and Angela straightens, suddenly fully awake. “He is talking, I believe, but I cannot detect any other lifeforms outside whether human or omnic. It seems as though he is talking to nothing.”

 

Angela takes a breath, brow creasing as she bites her lip. “Oh, Hanzo.”

 

“Indeed,” Athena says. “Would you like me to alert him to return inside?”

 

Angela’s already packing up her files with one hand, slotting them back into the bottom drawer of her desk. “No, Athena, thank you. I need to talk to him myself.”

 

“Affirmative, Doctor Ziegler. Good night.”

 

“Good night, Athena.”

 

\- - -

 

“All I remember is the noise, and then seein’ the building collapse. Nothin’ after that ‘til wakin’ up in the dropship with you unconscious and everyone cryin’. Nobody could see me, or hear me, and I figured out what was goin’ on pretty soon,” Jesse explains.

 

Hanzo takes a drink of sake. His hip flask is still shattered, so he’s broken into the emergency supplies he keeps on the cliffside. “That sounds... awful,” he says quietly. “I am sorry.”

 

Jesse waves a hand, looking out to the sea. “Nah, it’s alright. It’s in the past now, anyway. At least you know I exist, huh?”

 

Hanzo hums. “I do. Though I am... unsure how to tell the others about you.”

 

Jesse shrugs. “Just tell them. I mean, it’s the truth, and it ain’t that far-fetched when you think about Kami and Ina and Soba and whatever else, right?”

 

“I suppose your existence is harder to prove, though, than the dragons’,” Hanzo points out.

 

Jesse opens his mouth to say something else, but suddenly frowns and straightens. “Heads up,” he says, looking past Hanzo.

 

The archer turns to see Angela, still in her white coat, walking towards them. “ _Kuso_ ,” he curses, shoving the sake supply out of her view before standing. “Doctor Ziegler, nice to see you,” he greets.

 

Angela gives him a smile. “How are you feeling, Hanzo?”

 

Jesse crosses his arms. “You should tell her ‘bout me now. Get it over with.”

 

“Fine, thank you, Doctor. I was about to go inside.” Hanzo ignores the cowboy, giving as subtle a glare as he can towards him.

 

Angela nods. “Alright.”

 

“Seriously, Han, tell her! Maybe she can help,” Jesse insists, walking round to obstruct more of Hanzo’s view. He’s standing right beside Angela now, directly in Hanzo’s vision.

 

The archer grimaces as Angela continues. “Are you still... have you seen Jesse since we talked earlier?”

 

Hanzo hesitates.

 

Jesse grins. “Han, this is the perfect in, just tell her!” he pesters.

 

“ _Fine_ ,” Hanzo sighs, and Angela’s expression snaps into concern.

 

“Are you talking to him now, Hanzo?” she asks gently.

 

“Yes,” Hanzo begins, “but he is real, Angela, let me explain -“

 

“Hanzo,” Angela says, and he can see the sorrow in her eyes, “hallucinations are a natural progression of acute grief. It’s common for these... appearances to be near-indistinguishable from reality.”

 

“I understand perfectly,” Hanzo retorts. “But Jesse is _real_. He proved it earlier. I can show you -”

 

Angela just looks at him, the expression in her face saying it all. Hanzo’s words die off.

 

“I’m here!” Jesse yells, waving his hands right in front of Angela’s face. She shows no reaction, save for watching Hanzo as his gaze flicks to Jesse. “God _damnit_ , Angie, why the fuck can’t you see me?”

 

“Come with me, Hanzo,” Angela suggests. “I’ll keep an eye on you in the medbay tonight.”

 

Hanzo stares at her. “Doctor Ziegler, I _swear to you_  he is here. He caused my sake bottle earlier to burst.”

 

“It’s unsurprising that your subconscious would try to relate the hallucination to reality, Hanzo.” Angela’s voice lowers slightly. “And you told me earlier that you dropped it yourself.”

 

“I wrongly believed I was hallucinating!” Hanzo protests. “It was Jesse!”

 

Jesse has gone silent now, and he’s just watching Angela mutely. For her part, the doctor is looking solely at Hanzo, who replays his words in his head. It sounds absolutely unbelievable, yes, but it’s the _truth_.

 

“Come inside, Hanzo,” Angela says softly, extending an arm.

 

Hanzo looks at Jesse. Jesse looks down. “Fine,” he concedes, allowing Angela to put a guiding hand on his back. She starts walking back towards the inside of the Watchpoint, telling Hanzo about talking to Zenyatta though he isn’t really listening.

 

Coldness sweeps over Hanzo, and when he looks back Jesse is gone.


	3. Soul

“You are still allowing me to go on the mission?” Hanzo asks, frowning.

 

Angela smiles. “Yes. I believe it will help you to focus on something else.”

 

They're standing outside the medbay, where Hanzo slept overnight. He’s feeling significantly more refreshed now, though still a little on edge; he’d expected Angela to prevent him from leaving or politely explain that he’d jeopardise the mission they organised yesterday. 

 

She continues, “Of course, you’ll have me on comms all the way through. Alert me as soon as you need to, alright?”

 

Hanzo nods, and she steps back to let him get up. “Thank you, Angela,” he says.

 

“No need to thank me. The dropship is departing in an hour, if that’s alright,” she tells him, and he nods again.

 

It takes Hanzo around fifty-five minutes to get everything ready; he retrieves Storm Bow, giving it a fresh coat of polish, collects his arrows and spare string and gets dressed in his _kyudo-gi_. Jesse doesn’t show up in all the time Hanzo’s preparing. The other five minutes are used up walking to the dropship, and by the time he gets there everyone is waiting.

 

“There he is,” Hana greets, spotting him first. “Hiya!”

 

“Hello,” Hanzo says, and Winston gestures inside the ship. Both of them enter, and Hanzo straps himself in to the seat opposite Genji and Mercy, next to Lúcio. Hana’s on the DJ’s other side.

 

“Perfect,” the scientist says, “we’re all present. Here’s the plan.”

 

Winston goes through the liftoff procedure methodically, giving Tracer the signal to take off towards Russia. The Brit is piloting this mission, as one of only two officially-qualified pilots in Overwatch, though she’s not involved in the actual operation. Hanzo watches intently as Winston takes them through the plan, outlining last-minute changes and important reminders. Hana needs to remember to save her self-destruct sequence for emergency only. Hanzo should be wary of attacks from all directions, including behind him. Genji needs to keep an eye out to protect Lúcio.

 

“Beginning landing sequence, loves,” Lena calls over from the cockpit, and Winston nods.

 

“Perfect timing. Does anyone have any questions?” he asks.

 

Hanzo glances at the others, but Angela shakes her head and the rest of them are silent. It’s a reasonably straightforward mission, as far as they go, with only Winston himself having the hard task of talking in that special brand of double-edged code with Katya Volskaya.

 

The ship makes a whirring noise and starts to descend, and Winston pushes up his glasses. “Alright, agents, get ready to depart. Remember to grab one of the spare coats if you’re cold.”

 

There’s a gentle jolt and Hanzo sways slightly as the dropship comes to a halt on the ground. The restraints around his chest pop open, and he stands almost simultaneously to Genji and Hana.

 

“Cool,” Hana quips, jumping up and going over to unstrap her MEKA unit. The mech is secured and currently deactivated in the corner of the dropship, next to the lockers available for agents’ possessions. Hanzo never uses them, really, instead preferring to keep his things with him. He can trust Storm Bow more if there’s no chance of anyone tampering with it.

 

Hanzo slings the bow in question over his shoulder, pulling his sturdy _mitsugake_ on fully. The glove covers his drawing fingers but leaves the other two free to breathe and move unrestricted. His next job is testing the string; he does so, pulling it tense and letting it snap back. It’s a little too loose, so he tweaks the fastening slightly and half-restrings the bow. When he pulls the string again, it vibrates just the right amount.

 

“Have you got a coat, Hana?” Angela asks.

 

Hanzo can imagine the smug look on the Korean pilot’s face as she responds, “Nope, I don’t need one! Torb helped me give my MEKA a few upgrades. She’s got heating now.”

 

Lúcio laughs. “Damn, Hana, I’m jealous!”

 

Hana snorts. “It took such a long time to get working it had _better_ be worth it.”

 

Hanzo unfastens the top of his quiver and starts counting. Forty regular arrows, ten sonic, ten scatter. It should be more than enough for a non-combative mission like this one. He swings the quiver over his back and fastens the strap.

 

“Remember, everyone, if you begin to get too cold please let me know,” Angela cautions. “Low temperatures can be very dangerous!”

 

“Sure!” Hana says, and Lúcio echoes the agreement.

 

“Have fun, loves,” Tracer calls from the cockpit. “See you in a bit!”

 

Predictably, he’s the last one off the dropship. Hanzo is not a tardy man, but he always spends the extra time preparing his equipment before missions. Planning ahead and double-checking has saved him more than once before. The others are gathered just outside, and Angela smiles as Hanzo comes closer and the door begins to whir upwards.

 

“Alright, agents, let’s go,” Winston announces. “Angela, you’re with me. Hanzo, focus on recon. The rest of you, just keep a general eye out and be ready to respond to comms. This should be a simple mission, but keep alert just in case.”

 

Hanzo nods along with the rest of the team, and they set off. Volskaya Industries is surprisingly open, though flanked by water, and Hanzo mentally notes down the highest vantage points he can see. He could probably perch for a reasonable amount of time on top of that snow-covered, flag-waving figure; that flat platform is higher than the rest of its surroundings. When they reach their destination, though, one of the offices lining Volskaya’s inner courtyard, the lack of high platforms becomes apparent. Hanzo’s best bet is likely the raised platform closer to the tall doorway, though it takes him out of sight of the team.

 

“Winston,” he says softly, causing the scientist to stop and turn. “I believe the best position for me is there.” Hanzo points, and Winston makes a humming sound.

 

“You’ll have to rely heavily on comms,” he points out.

 

Hanzo nods. “I am aware. Still, the vantage points closer to the team are... lacking.”

 

“Fine, then, but make sure you stay safe and keep in contact,” Winston tells him. “Good luck.”

 

Hanzo thanks him quickly before running to the platform, sticking to the shadows. He jumps and kicks against the wall before grabbing the top of the platform with his hands. Hanzo grits his teeth as he pulls himself up and over; he’s a little out of practice. He crosses to the edge, looking to the outside part of the complex. It’s all clear for now.

 

The air warms slightly, despite Hanzo’s chill, and he turns to see Jesse’s form standing there.

 

“Hey,” he says awkwardly, and Hanzo shoots upright.

 

“Jesse!”

 

“Sorry ‘bout appearin’ so late, by the way,” Jesse explains sheepishly. “And leavin’ yesterday. I was... a little shaken up,” he admits.

 

Hanzo smiles. “It is no matter. You are here now.”

 

Jesse gives him a grin before looking around, wrinkling his nose slightly. “It’s snowin’. Where are we?”

 

“Volskaya Industries. In Russia,” Hanzo tells him.

 

Jesse whistles. “Huh. Never actually been. Is it cold?”

 

Hanzo makes a face. “Freezing.”

 

“Hah. Can’t feel it. Guess I found an advantage to bein’ dead.”

 

The statement is accompanied by a customary Jesse McCree shit-eating grin, and Hanzo snorts. “Idiot. At least your presence makes it warmer.”

 

“Huh?”

 

“You are warm,” Hanzo tells him. “When you appear the temperature rises.”

 

Jesse raises an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t’ve guessed that. Ain’t ghosts supposed to be cold?”

 

Hanzo opens his mouth to reply, but something moves in the edge of his vision. He turns; smoke curls, and his eyes narrow. “Look,” he hisses.

 

Jesse turns as the mist starts to collate, swirling upwards. Hanzo reaches up to his comm, activating the mic, but there’s a burst of static and suddenly dead silence.

 

“This is Agent Shimada,” he hisses. “Can anyone hear me?” The line stays dead, and Hanzo curses. “They must have some sort of dampening technology. We are on our own.”

 

Jesse swears as the fog thickens, and Hanzo nocks an arrow. The smoke rises and coalesces into a black-cloaked form. A bone-white mask turns to face Hanzo and Jesse. The archer raises his bow and pulls it taut.

 

“Do _not_ move,” Hanzo says, voice hard.

 

“Shimada. You here to stop me?” Reaper asks. His mask gleams.

 

Hanzo’s eyebrows draw closer together. “You will not interfere. Stay where you are.”

 

“Or what?” Reaper taunts, his lower body dissolving into black fumes. Hanzo grips the bow tighter. “You’ll set the cowboy on me?”

 

The archer falters. “You can see him?”

 

“What the fuck?” Jesse murmurs.

 

Reaper laughs. “Of course I can. I see _souls_. That includes you, ingrate,” he hisses. “How did _you_ manage to end up coming back?”

 

Jesse’s staring, and something tells Hanzo it’s due to more than Reaper’s words. “Why the fuck do you look like that?” he asks slowly.

 

Hanzo draws Storm Bow taut again as Reaper’s head tilts. “You can see my soul, _vaquero_. One of the perks of being a ghost.”

 

A look of horror crosses Jesse’s face. “You... are you...?” he breathes, trailing off.

 

Hanzo doesn’t know what Jesse can see, but Reaper’s wordless nod elicits a look of utter heartbreak on his face.

 

The archer turns back to Reaper, who looks like he’s about to bolt, and Hanzo steps closer to him and aims an arrow directly at his mask. “Stay still, or I _will_ shoot,” he threatens.

 

“I’ll tell you what,” Reaper says, tilting his head and taking a step closer. Hanzo refuses to flinch as the wraith comes near, putting his face close to Hanzo’s and near-whispering. “I’ll take a leaf from Sombra’s book. You let me go, this once, and I’ll tell you how to summon the ingrate.”

 

Hanzo rears back, shock over his face. “ _What_?”

 

Smoke curls, and somehow Hanzo can tell Reaper is grinning under the bone-white mask. “He’s a spirit and he’s attached to you. Just like _these_.” His claws grasp Hanzo’s left arm and the dragons flare as Hanzo snarls at Reaper in response.

 

Jesse yells something that sounds like _don’t touch him_ , but Hanzo focuses on Reaper. “Tell me what you know. _Now_.”

 

“Spirits are linked to weapons as well as people. Your dragons come to your bow, don’t they, Shimada? I’ve given you the hint. Now _figure it out_.”

 

Hanzo stumbles as Reaper surges upwards and shoves the archer backwards, and then Hanzo is drawing Storm Bow tight.

 

“Don’t even think about it,” Reaper growls. “I have a free pass for the information. That was the deal. Let me go.”

 

Hanzo grits his teeth, staring at the wraith. “You have five seconds,” he bites out, hating that his promise binds him to let Reaper free. “And then I _will_ come after you.”

 

“Fine,” Reaper hisses, before he starts to dissolve into noxious smoke that sweeps away from Hanzo, off the roof and back down towards the exit of the compound. Hanzo lowers his bow slowly as he watches the wraith leave, counting in his head.

 

_Five. Four. Three. Two._

 

Reaper’s form disappears, and Hanzo drops Storm Bow to his side.

 

Jesse runs to the edge of the roof. “He’s actually leavin’. Doesn’t seem right. The hell did you let him go for, Han?”

 

“He traded information for one-time freedom,” the archer says, staring after Reaper. “And I do not break deals.”

 

“On _what_?” Jesse asks.

 

Hanzo turns to look at him. He’s half-glowing with adrenaline, heat radiating from him in waves. “On you. How to summon you, like the dragons,” he says softly.

 

The cowboy falters. “Seriously?”

 

Hanzo nods. “I have no way of knowing how true his words were. However, I... it makes sense.”

 

“So what,” Jesse asks, frowning, “you just shoot Storm Bow and hope it’s me that comes out the other end?”

 

“I believe the weapon needs to be more specific to you. Kami and Ina have always been bound to Storm Bow in addition to me, but you... clearly, you are not connected to my weapon.”

 

“He give you any tips, then? On the right weapon?”

 

Hanzo makes a humming noise. “I suppose there is only one weapon you could be considered bound to.”

 

“Peacekeeper,” Jesse completes, and grins. “Who’s got her now?”

 

Hanzo frowns. “That is... the difficult part. I do not remember much about the... clearing up the ceremony.” His voice hitches slightly. “I could ask one of the others where she is.”

 

“Are they gonna let you take her?” Jesse asks. “They’re worried about you, Han, I don’t know if they’d let you have my gun.”

 

Hanzo pauses. Jesse’s right, as he usually is. Angela and Genji in particular have been keeping a close eye on Hanzo. He knows this, and he knows they still think he needs supervision. They won’t let him near Jesse’s gun without a good reason, and Hanzo’s explanation will likely make them even more concerned.

 

“Then we steal her.”

 

“What now?”

 

“We steal her,” Hanzo repeats. “Remember Winston’s new rules? He will not allow her to be unsecured.”

 

“So,” Jesse says, “you’re suggestin’ we break into the armory to retrieve the gun that I legally own? We’re goin’ to steal our _own_ stuff?”

 

“You are a ghost,” Hanzo shoots back. “ _Legally_ , you own nothing.”

 

“Jesus, Han, too soon.” Jesse laughs, raising an eyebrow. The archer flushes.

 

Before he can reply, there’s a burst of static over Hanzo’s comm, and a gust of wind passes over him. “- copy? Hanzo!”

 

“I can hear you,” Hanzo affirms quickly. “The situation is over.”

 

“What happened?” Hana asks.

 

“We - I was ambushed by Reaper.” Hanzo tries to smooth over his slip-up, but he can almost _hear_ Angela's worry over the comms.

 

“Are you alright, brother?” Genji’s tone is cool. Hanzo doesn’t doubt he noticed the mistake.

 

Hanzo nods, though the others can’t see. “I am uninjured. Has the meeting finished?”

 

“ _Ye_ , I can see them coming out now,” Hana says.

 

There’s the slight _tic_ noise that Hanzo recognises as reconnection, and then Winston’s voice comes over the line. “Alright, agents, let’s get back to the dropship.”

 

“How did it go?” Lúcio asks.

 

Hanzo crosses to the edge of the roof and slips down, landing solidly. He looks around for Jesse; he’s gone, though, which explains the sweep of coldness earlier that Hanzo thought was wind. Hanzo resists the urge to curse Jesse’s inconsistent appearances.

 

“Successfully,” Angela replies, a hint of pride in her tone. “She intends to lend us the aid of one of her allies to help us. Her name is Aleksandra Zaryanova; she should be arriving at Gibraltar in a few days or so.”

 

“Hey, I remember hearing about her a couple of years ago. She’s that weightlifter, isn’t she?” Hana sounds excited.

 

“Correct,” Angela tells her. “She should be a valuable addition to the team, especially as she has had several encounters with Sombra.”

 

Winston makes a disgruntled noise at the sound of the hacker’s name, and at the same time Hanzo sees the rest of the team rounding the corner towards him. Hana grins and waves.

 

Lúcio beams. “Hey, man!”

 

Hanzo smiles at him; the DJ’s enthusiasm is inexplicably contagious. “Hello.”

 

“You look ready to get home, brother,” Genji jokes. Hanzo rolls his eyes as he falls into step with the other five.

 

Hana lets out a huff. “ _I’m_ ready. I’ve missed so many streams ‘cause of all the missions! Gotta catch up tonight.”

 

“Tonight?” Angela asks, raising an eyebrow. “Hana, you’ve been working very hard recently. It might be better to take a night off.”

 

“Psh. Streaming is pretty relaxing, to be honest.”

 

Angela makes a humming noise. “If you’re sure.”

 

The dropship ramp whirs smoothly down as they approach. Lena beams at them as they enter.

 

“Good news?” she asks.

 

Winston nods. “Very.”

 

Lena’s grin widens. “Great! Strap in, then, let’s get home!”

 

She blinks out of view back to the pilot’s chair, and Hanzo fastens himself into one of the free seats. He ends up in the middle beside Genji and Winston.

 

The journey back is animated, the long conversation between Genji, Lena, Hana and Lúcio filling the ship easily. Hanzo tunes out the chatter as best he can, closing his eyes and willing time to pass faster.

 

It seems like forever, but finally they reach Gibraltar again. Jesse still hasn’t reappeared and Hanzo, despite himself, is starting to worry. He tries to push the emotion away, though, forcing himself to focus. He needs a way of stealing Peacekeeper covertly, making sure to avoid Athena. She has cameras everywhere; there’s no blindspot Hanzo knows of.

 

He thinks for a second, narrowing his eyes. Hanzo doesn’t possess the knowledge to hide from Athena, which he needs to do to pull off the theft without anyone noticing and stopping him. He needs to find a way to do so without outright asking anyone. Hanzo grins as a plan starts to form.

 

He needs to do some research.


	4. Summon

It’s a few hours later, late at night, when there’s a swirl of heat in Hanzo’s room and he jumps off his bed as Jesse appears.

 

“Jesse!” Hanzo exclaims, then frowns as he quietens. “Why did you not return sooner? I have been waiting for _hours_ for you.”

 

“I’m sorry, Han.” Jesse frowns, reaching out to _almost_ touch Hanzo but aborting the gesture. “I meant to come sooner, but I can’t really control when I’m here or not. Just kinda happens.”

 

Hanzo huffs. “Well, at least you _do_ appear. No matter how annoying the inconsistency is.”

 

Jesse chuckles. “Flattered.”

 

Hanzo resists the urge to elbow him, knowing the gesture won’t connect. “Idiot.”

 

“So. When are we breakin’ in?”

 

“While you were away, I looked into Athena’s systems, and I found evidence of this.” Hanzo produces a small, slim pad that changes colour holographically in the light.

 

Jesse frowns. “I recognise that. Ain’t it...?”

 

“It is a blinding device. After I found out about them, I stole it from 76’s room.”

 

“God _damn_ , it is! I remember Gabe’s one. Shit, I got in so much trouble for stealin’ it once. You gonna wear it?”

 

Hanzo nods. “Athena will not be able to detect me in any way, so long as the patch is on.”

 

“Nice,” Jesse says, chuckling.

 

Hanzo grins. “So, are you ready?”

 

Jesse raises an eyebrow. “I’ll follow your lead, darlin’.”

 

Hanzo smooths the patch over the back of his hand, pressing it down with two fingers. It flashes briefly before fading, the iridescent shimmer dulling to a matte grey. “It’s working. Let’s go.”

 

Hanzo, stealth training and all, is used to silencing his movement. He leads the way to the armory, taking light steps and keeping himself shadowed. Jesse, however, struts along with a wide swagger, grinning every time Hanzo winces at his loud footsteps. When they reach the armory door, they’re both annoyed to find that it’s locked to senior members only.

 

“Damn,” Jesse curses. “My code won’t work.”

 

Hanzo huffs quietly. “I don’t suppose you have any magical ghost powers that could get through, do you?”

 

Jesse shrugs. “Hell if I know. Only thing I found so far is that explodin’ thing.”

 

Hanzo hums. “Like a better version of that shooting trick you do.”

 

“What, Deadeye?” He grins. “Hadn’t thought of it like that.”

 

Hanzo narrows his eyes, looking Jesse up and down. “Can you pass through walls?”

 

Jesse shrugs again, and takes a step over to the armory door. “I’m standin’ on the floor, so I doubt it.”

 

“Try anyway.”

 

Jesse makes a face as he reaches towards the door, leaning inwards. His brow is creased, and he presses his hand flat against the door.

 

“Dammit,” he mutters. “Solid. Sorry, Han, I guess -“

 

Jesse falls sideways, phasing straight through the door and disappearing. Hanzo starts.

 

“Fuck!” Jesse yells, muffled, from inside.

 

“Open the door!” Hanzo hisses, trying to keep quiet despite his urge to laugh.

 

The door opens to reveal a flustered-looking cowboy at the control panel. “So I guess I canpass through shit, huh?” he says, loudly, making Hanzo wince at the volume.

 

“Quiet!” he hisses.

 

Jesse grins. “Come on, now, Han, it ain’t like anyone else can hear me. Hey, everyone! We’re breakin’ into our own armory!” he yells at the top of his lungs, and Hanzo flinches away from the sound.

 

“Are you trying to deafen me?” he snaps, trying to keep his own voice down despite Jesse’s now-outright laughter.

 

“Aww, Han,” he wheedles. “It’s a bit of fun.”

 

“If you make me laugh, _you_ are not the one who will be caught,” Hanzo mutters, trying to suppress his smile. _Stay focused._

 

“So where d’you reckon it’ll be?” Jesse asks, craning his neck to see. “If it’s not in my locker, then... oh.”

 

Hanzo turns. “What is it?”

 

Jesse’s in front of his locker, staring at the door. Peacekeeper is locked inside, though it’s barely visible through the miscellany of gifts littered around. Jesse is silent as he looks at the notes, the few flowers, the many bullet casings: there’s something from every member of the team there.

 

“Oh,” Hanzo says softly.

 

“I didn’t... realise,” Jesse admits, clearing his throat. “Goddamn.”

 

“We miss you,” Hanzo tells him. “Everyone does.”

 

Jesse pauses. “We should probably get goin’.”

 

Hanzo takes a step forward, reaching out before he hesitates. Jesse is ethereal; Hanzo can’t hug him. Jesse must be able to see the consternation on his face, because he gives Hanzo a half-smile.

 

“C’mon,” he says. “Let’s go figure out what the fuck Reaper meant, huh?”

 

Hanzo nods and punches Jesse’s code in quickly. It was a big move for both of them to be able to trust each other with their respective locker codes, and now Hanzo reaches in and holds Peacekeeper with the same care Jesse always used to.

 

Jesse nods appreciatively. “Alright. Is the range free?”

 

Hanzo hums. “Yes, I think, though it might be a good idea to try tomorrow morning. I do not know if I have enough energy to summon you.”

 

There’s a small hiss then, and both of them look down as Hanzo’s patch flickers slightly.

 

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” Jesse curses.

 

“We need to go,” Hanzo tells him, striding out of the room. “I suspect that when this fails, Angela will come looking for me. We need proof you are real before she arrives. I need to summon you tonight.”

 

“Lead on,” Jesse replies, nodding, and Hanzo breaks into a fleet-footed run across the corridor to the training range. It’s not far, but Hanzo is painfully aware he’s on borrowed time.

 

The door is open, as usual, and Hanzo slips inside before flicking on the lights. The bright room is a sharp contrast to the dark armory or Jesse’s easy glow.

 

“Alright, Han, let’s try it,” Jesse encourages, striding to the centre of the room. Hanzo follows, gripping Jesse’s gun. Peacekeeper is solid in his hands, familiar and well-worn but steady. Hanzo holds it, aiming it in front of him, and waits. He waits for the words to come into his mind, the perfect phrase to catalyse the summoning.

 

He waits.

 

“Somethin’ wrong, darlin’?” Jesse asks.

 

“I do not know what to say to summon you,” Hanzo says, frustrated, and Jesse comes closer.

 

“How’d you figure out how to summon Kami and Ina?”

 

Hanzo frowns. “I don’t remember. I was not taught the specific words."

 

“D’you just use a contraction?” Jesse asks, a grin sliding across his face. “I’m so proud, Han.”

 

Hanzo flushes, mouth quirking upwards. “Shut up, cowboy.”

 

He raises Peacekeeper, keeping his stance wide and focusing on the other end of the training room.

 

“You got this,” Jesse says softly. “I trust you.”

 

Hanzo doesn’t reply; he just grounds himself, recalling his preparation for his first summoning of the dragons.

 

_Focus on the spirits. Align their will with yours. Visualise the target._

 

He’s never intentionally summoned the dragons for anything outside battle. Occasionally they’ll manifest on their own beyond his tattoo, but he’s never purposefully called them out. He hasn’t practiced summoning outside of his direct control, as Genji has; when Hanzo’s spirits appear, they are always bound to obey him. He’s never mastered the art of letting Kami and Ina run free. Hanzo can’t summon Jesse like that, though; the cowboy needs free will.

 

Just like that, the perfect phrase appears in his mind.

 

Hanzo closes his eyes, taking a breath, and looks down Peacekeeper’s barrel. Warmth floods over him as he stares at the spot in front of him and the words come easy, and he thinks of sun tempered by steel and in a low voice he intones, “ _It’s high noon_.”

 

Red streaks erupt from Peacekeeper’s barrel and race outwards before coalescing, turning and twisting to form a figure wreathed in flame. Hanzo takes a step back as the figure shines and winks out, and suddenly the flames retract and Jesse is standing there with shock on his face.

 

“Jesse?” Hanzo asks carefully, setting the gun on the ground.

 

Jesse lifts his hands and stares at them, turning them over. His gaze switches to Hanzo and he takes an unsteady step forward.

 

Hanzo swallows, suddenly conscious of the slight fizz his override patch makes as it dies. He’s out of time.

 

Jesse’s expression is tense as he reaches out his hand in an invitation. Hanzo does the same, mirroring the movement, and carefully touches his fingers to Jesse’s. They make physical contact, and Jesse takes a breath.

 

“Han,” he whispers. “You did it, Han, you -“

 

Jesse lets out a laugh and grabs Hanzo around the waist, pulling him in for a tight embrace that’s like sweet air when Hanzo didn’t even know he was suffocating. Hanzo buries his face in Jesse’s shoulder, inhaling the scent of smoke and sun that feels like home.

 

“Holy shit,” Jesse whispers. “It feels so good to hold you again, honeybee.”

 

Hanzo lets out a half-teary laugh. “Shut up and kiss me,” he blurts, and Jesse pulls away slightly.

 

“Never thought I’d get to do that again,” he says softly. “You gave me another chance, Han.”

 

Jesse leans in, and suddenly there’s an earsplitting screech that cuts through the air and makes them jump apart.

 

“What the hell?” Jesse curses, looking up.

 

“Attention, all agents,” comes Winston’s voice through Athena’s speakers. “Watchpoint: Gibraltar is under attack. Everyone gather your weapons as soon as possible and come to the front of the base.”

 

Hanzo’s mouth twists. “We need to go,” he says, picking up Peacekeeper and handing the gun to Jesse. “Storm Bow is in my room.”

 

“You got it,” Jesse answers sharply, gaze focused as he turns over the gun. “You got bullets? She’s empty.”

 

“I have extra ammunition in my room,” Hanzo tells him, heading for the doorway.

 

There’s a crash and both of them spin round. The door to the outer section of the Watchpoint crumples inward, sun spilling through the doorway. Smoke spills through and coalesces, and Hanzo’s mouth goes dry as Reaper materialises in front of them.

 

“Fuck,” Jesse breathes. “Han, you run, I’ll -”

 

“Don’t you dare,” Hanzo hisses. “We have a better chance of taking him down together.”

 

Reaper pulls two shotguns from his belt, pointing them at Jesse and Hanzo. Jesse tenses.

 

“What do you want?” Hanzo snaps.

 

Reaper says nothing.

 

Jesse levels Peacekeeper at him, despite its lack of bullets. “Walk away right now, _cabrón_.”

 

Reaper is silent; he just inclines his head slightly, towards Jesse.

 

“Take him down,” Hanzo whispers, and the cowboy nods.

 

Jesse lunges and Hanzo leaps towards Reaper as the wraith turns to Jesse. Hanzo punches Reaper’s wrist and the shotgun goes flying from his grip. The archer ducks the retaliating swipe of talons, and kicks the back of Reaper’s knee. The wraith staggers slightly as his leg buckles, and Jesse uses the distraction to duck low and make a move towards the loaded shotgun now lying on the floor. Reaper lunges, grabbing Jesse by the shoulder and punching him across the jaw.

 

“Jesse!” Hanzo shouts, scrambling towards them.

 

Reaper’s fist pulls back and he punches Jesse in the stomach, making the cowboy stagger back and double over. He smacks Hanzo across the face with the remaining shotgun, and the world wheels white as stars spark behind his eyes and he’s flung across the room. He slides across the floor and hits the back wall, pain lighting up his jaw and left side.

 

“Han!” he hears Jesse roar, and then there’s a cry of pain and a thump.

 

Hanzo groans and pushes himself up, vision slowly returning. Reaper stands over Jesse, who’s limp on the floor. Hanzo lets out a hiss as he tries to move, back protesting.

 

_Jesse, get up, get up -_

 

Reaper reaches down to grab Jesse, and slings him over his shoulder. Hanzo lets out a sharp hiss; Peacekeeper is lying by Jesse’s body, and he needs the weapon to summon Jesse back. If he can do that, Jesse's physical body will disappear, and Reaper won’t be able to touch him -

 

The wraith’s gaze switches to Hanzo, who freezes. He doesn’t speak, though, just stares at him with that bone-white mask. Hanzo watches as his gaze slides over to Peacekeeper, and back to the archer.

 

Hanzo clenches his fists, muscles screaming in protest. “Don’t,” he hisses. " _Please_."

 

Reaper cocks his head, looking up at the camera in the corner of the training room. He pauses for a second before he makes several quick gestures with his left hand, indecipherable to Hanzo. Reaper gives the archer one last stare before he picks the gun up, and dissolves into smoke.

 

Hanzo lets out a cry as Jesse disappears with him, into thick fumes that billow out of the broken door. He tries propelling himself to standing, but his chest seizes and he collapses halfway up as his vision blurs. Pain pierces the fog and Hanzo realises he must have broken something; from the twinging in his chest it’s a rib, maybe two.

 

“Jesse!” he yells, despite knowing that Reaper is long gone.  _Jesse_ is gone.

 

“Hanzo!” someone shouts, and there’s a bang as Hanzo’s consciousness fades and he slumps to the cool floor.


	5. Saviour

“He’s coming round.”

“Thank you, Lúcio.”

“He going to be okay?”

“I’ve done all I can. He just needs rest.”

Hanzo’s eyes fly open and he jerks in the bed, sheet tangling around him as aching pain shoots up his side. “What?” he blurts, heart racing.

“Sssh, Hanzo, it’s alright. You’re safe now,” Angela reassures him, laying a calming hand on his shoulder. “You are in the medbay. I have done as much as I can with my equipment; you just need to get some more sleep and recuperate.”

Hanzo takes a breath. He can’t tell if Angela played back the footage. “Did you stop Reaper?”

Her brows narrow. “Reaper?”

Panic flutters in Hanzo’s chest. “Reaper. He broke into the Watchpoint training room. We need to go after him.”

A flash of worry passes across Angela’s face. “That’s worrying. I’ll talk to Winston about upgrading our detection system. But -“

“We need to find him,” Hanzo repeats, insistent.

“He’s long gone, man.” Lúcio speaks up for the first time.

Angela gives Hanzo a small smile, intended to be reassuring. Hanzo feels as far from calm as possible, however. “It’s alright. We’ll watch for him. He will not get to you again.”

“You don’t understand -“

“You’ve had a very stressful experience, Hanzo, and it will do you good to rest. You will only harm yourself if you chase after him now -“

“He took Jesse!” he yells, and Angela’s expression flattens into forced calmness as she lifts her hand from his shoulder. Hanzo doesn’t care that she’s worried, though, because she is _wrong_. “I summoned him and now he is gone!”

“Hanzo -“

“You need to see the footage,” he says, fighting to keep his voice controlled. “It’s proof.”

Lúcio shoots Angela a glance. “I know this is hard for you, Hanzo. It’s difficult for all of us,” the doctor begins.

Hanzo balls his fists, cutting her off. “Jesse is back. Reaper took him. I am going to bring him back, and if you get in my way -“

“Athena,” Lúcio interrupts, “you mind showing us the footage from the training room? About an hour ago?”

Athena’s voice is calm. “Of course, Lúcio,” she answers, and the screen beside Hanzo’s bed flickers on.

Angela turns to see it, and Hanzo tenses. There’s no reason for him to doubt it, but a voice in the back of his mind is crying out that the surveillance won’t show a thing. It has to, though - _it has to_.

A slight shimmer moves through the air, and Lúcio frowns.

Angela purses her lips disapprovingly. “I... recognise that interference pattern. Hanzo, where did you get an override patch?”

Hanzo doesn’t respond. The shimmer moves to the centre of the training room, and there’s a flicker of a silhouette: Hanzo’s figure, holding a firearm. Angela stays silent, though he has no doubt she recognises the gun. His shape blinks again on the screen, raising the weapon.

“It’s high noon!” his disembodied voice yells. The sound of Peacekeeper firing cracks through the speakers and, instantly, the camera whites out with a bright flash. Angela curses as the screen shines brightly. Hanzo’s heart pounds like a war drum in his ears.

The brightness fades. Screen-Hanzo lowers the gun, now fully visible.

Jesse stands shocked in the middle of the screen, staring between Hanzo and his body like he’s never seen it before, visibly and undeniably real.

Lúcio makes a noise of shock and Angela shoots to her feet, cursing in German.

“ _Gott_ ,” she says, face slack. “Hanzo, I am _so sorry_.”

“Jesse?” Screen-Hanzo asks, voice raw with emotion, and Lucio hastily asks Athena to turn the feed off.

Angela pulls out her comm unit, calling Winston. Hanzo has never seen her move so fast. “Winston? We need a rescue team _now_. I don’t have time to explain, but Jesse has been taken by Talon.”

There’s a pause, and Angela pinches the bridge of her nose.

“What?” Hanzo asks, dreading the answer.

“We don’t know where they are,” she says to him, quietly. “We can’t launch a rescue attempt without knowing where to go.”

A wave of cold sweeps over Hanzo, and he hesitates for a second. “No.”

Angela looks at him.

“No,” he repeats. “We have to find him.” _Where are you, Jesse?_

Angela replies, but the words are lost to Hanzo as the sound around him suddenly fades. The world whitens, becoming monochrome. His eyes widen. Clear in his mind, superimposed onto the grayscale Watchpoint, is a path. It’s glowing red, curling and twisting away from Hanzo. It’s a path to _Jesse_ , his brain tells him, and somewhere on the edge of his consciousness Hanzo feels Kami and Ina rumble their agreement.

“I know where he is,” Hanzo breathes aloud. Angela freezes, then says something; he still can’t hear her. Her expression changes, and Lúcio’s face creases in worry.

Hanzo nearly throws himself out of bed, pain splintering down his torso, and _runs_. He’s still clothed in his training gear, though it’s bloodied, and he sprints through the Watchpoint to reach his room. The door slides open instantly and Hanzo snatches up his quiver and Storm Bow, vaulting out of the window seamlessly to land on the ground below. He runs to the building opposite, hyperfocused on the path in his mind, and punches the access code into the pad by the garage’s door. _I’m coming, Jesse_. The slatted door ratchets up and Hanzo ducks under, slotting Storm Bow onto his back. Light glints off the vehicles inside: the civilian-disguised hatchback, Fareeha’s motorbike, Reinhardt and Brigitte’s truck. It’s the burnished Kawasaki on the end of the row, though, that Hanzo makes a beeline for.

Jesse’s taken Hanzo on hundreds of rides in their time together, speeding further into the mainland to visit bars and beaches on their time off. Hanzo, however, has been teaching himself to ride for months. He conjured up a plan of taking the gunslinger out himself; he even picked out a destination. It’s the sort of surprise Hanzo was certain Jesse would love. Now, though, if Hanzo doesn’t do something that will _never_ come to pass; he knows exactly what he has to do.

Hanzo climbs onto Jesse’s bike swiftly, unhooking the keys hanging on the garage wall. He clips the helmet on and shoves the keys in, twisting them sharply as the door folds upwards fully to reveal Angela and Lúcio running towards him, shouting something he still can’t hear. Hanzo starts the engine. Angela waves desperately.

He accelerates.

\- - -

The path takes him on a lightning-fast route, leaping and twisting ahead as he races to keep up. Hanzo’s so laser-focused that the time elapsed escapes him. All he can see is the scarlet line in his mind, the road around him and the white sky, right up until suddenly the red bike beneath him bleeds back into colour from gray. The noise of the road asserts itself on the edge of his hearing, a faint, constant rumble. The path wavers, just for a second, and Hanzo curses as he speeds up. He can’t afford to lose the way to Jesse, not now, when he has no idea where to go or even where he is.

Wind roars around Hanzo’s helmet. The sky tinges blue, colour bleeding across it like spilt paint. The red path flickers and disappears before rematerialising just as it jerks and lunges to the left, and Hanzo twists the bike sharply, managing to right himself just as the trail phases out again. He curses as it pulses weakly, the road markings and his surroundings fading back into bright colour as the noise grows louder. Trees sprout along the roadside, towering over him and throwing the road into darker shadow. The path fizzles and finally dies, and Hanzo brakes just as the road splits into two beside a squat, beige building. _Which one?_ The bike hums underneath him, raring just as much as he is to get to Jesse. Hanzo’s lost his guide, though, and now he’s completely lost. He stares at the tracks in front of him, identical save their different directions.

A scream pierces the air. Hanzo’s head whips around, back to the squat building. He turns the bike off, eyes narrowing. Muffled gunfire thuds, and Hanzo tenses as he climbs off and kicks the side stand down. He unclips Storm Bow from his back, notching an arrow and creeping forwards to hide behind a cluster of trees. His back twinges as he crouches, and he grimaces. From here he can see the side of the building, but he’s covered by the shadows the trees above cast. Something is wrong here; Hanzo tells himself the nagging feeling in his gut isn’t ridiculous. He can help here until the path reveals itself again; if he doesn’t distract himself, Hanzo knows he’ll break down. He can’t afford to fall apart now.

The small door on the side of the building bursts open with a bang, and Hanzo lifts Storm Bow smoothly as three armoured soldiers burst out, yelling something incomprehensible. White helmets, black clothing: _Talon_. The middle one lifts his gun, pointing it back into the building, and Hanzo’s eyes narrow. Something else is going on. The Talon soldiers open fire and muzzle flash lights up the interior of the building, and red sparks flare within. Hanzo's brow creases even further as the soldiers back away from the door; their behaviour is almost _afraid_.

" _Espectro_!" one of them starts shouting, over and over. " _O espectro! Matá-lo_!"

Hanzo _knows_ that word, _espectro_ , can clearly recall Jesse mentioning it at one point. His grasp on Spanish still isn’t strong, though, and from the soldiers‘ accents this is only a similar language. From the time he’s been travelling, Hanzo supposes Portuguese.

" _Matá-lo_!" the soldier screams again, loosing another spray of gunfire, and then something glows within the building. Red light shines out and suddenly three successive cracks rip through the air. The soldiers drop almost simultaneously, guns dropping to the ground with tinny-sounding clatters.

A figure emerges out of the darkness, and suddenly the meaning of the shouts sparks in Hanzo's mind.

 _Espectro_. Ghost.

Jesse's face is full of fury as he steps over the dead Talon soldiers, Peacekeeper gripped in his hand. Something freezes Hanzo in place as he watches. Jesse's _glowing_ , a red shine emanating from his whole body. His eye trails what looks like flame, crimson and angry-looking. Hanzo is reminded, from the shots and from Jesse’s eye, of his deadeye trick; now, it seems, his gift has been elevated to something more. A strange feeling of uncertainty, near fear, sweeps over Hanzo. He tries to remind himself that it’s just Jesse, but the sight of him standing so still and so luminescent unnerves him.

Suddenly, smoke swirls between Jesse and Hanzo, and he glimpses Jesse’s expression darken. He swings Peacekeeper up in perfect synchronisation as Reaper’s smog coalesces and thickens and rushes together until the terrorist is fully present, standing completely at the mercy of Jesse’s gun. The barrel is pressed up against Reaper’s mask, and the air stills. Hanzo’s breath catches. Jesse doesn’t move for a long second, and neither does Reaper. The two stay locked in mutual stillness.

“We ain’t fuckin’ done,” Jesse says finally, staring Reaper down. The wraith says nothing, staying silent. “I’m comin’ back for you.”

Reaper dissolves into nothingness, and then it’s just Jesse left in the silence as Hanzo watches. Jesse lowers his gun, and the red glow starts to fade. Hanzo lets out a breath, and Jesse’s head jerks up.

“Hanzo?” he asks.

Hanzo straightens awkwardly, slotting Storm Bow onto his back as he takes a step forward. Before he can reply, though, Jesse strides towards him and hugs him tightly. Hanzo grips him wordlessly, relishing the smell and the sensation and the feeling of home.

“Han, baby -”

“I thought I lost you again,” is all Hanzo can say, cutting him offf, clutching Jesse close.

Jesse laughs, chest rumbling. “I ain’t never leavin’ you, baby.”

They stay like that, close together, for a few precious seconds before Hanzo’s grip loosens. He pulls back and looks up.

“What happened?” he asks. “Are you alright?”

Jesse nods. “Yeah. Fuckers didn’t do anything to me yet, though they were plannin’ to. And...”

He hesitates. Hanzo frowns. “What?”

Jesse’s expression changes, heaviness settling behind it. “I... it’s something I probably need to tell everyone. Back at base.”

Unsurety stirs within Hanzo’s chest, but he pushes it away.

“How’d you find me?” Jesse asks.

Hanzo gives him a smile, accepting the change of subject. “We are connected. A route to you appeared in my mind, and... I took it.”

He decides to leave out the panic he must have left Angela and Lúcio in, or the stress he might have caused anyone else.

Jesse grins and opens his mouth, but suddenly frowns. “You hear that?” he asks.

Hanzo narrows his eyes. “What?”

Jesse doesn’t respond, but even as he asks Hanzo knows the answer. He can make out faint rumbling growing ever louder, like a vehicle coming towards them.

“Shit,” Jesse curses. “I took them all out inside, but one of the bastards must’ve sent for backup. _Shit_.”

“We can take them,” Hanzo says, unclipping Storm Bow again. “How much ammunition do you have left?”

Jesse lets out a strange half-laugh then, looking down at Peacekeeper. “Heh. That’s the thing. I, uh... don’t seem to need actual bullets anymore.”

Hanzo stares in shock. “ _What_?”

The rumble gets louder, now audibly the sound of a large truck approaching; Jesse shoots Hanzo a look that says _I have no idea_ , and readies himself.

The truck swings round the bend and brakes sharply, pulling up right in front of them. Hanzo notches an arrow and pulls the drawstring back at lightning speed; Jesse puts a hand on his arm, pointing it to the ground.

“Wait,” he cautions. “That’s -”

A side door in the white truck slams open, and _Genji_ jumps out, running straight towards them and wrapping his arms around both Jesse and Hanzo.

“ _Aniki_ , I’m so sorry I didn’t believe you,” he exclaims, the words rushing out. “And Jesse - welcome back. I... I missed you a lot.”

The greeting isn’t verbose by any standard, but Hanzo knows that kind of terse expression is Genji’s way of expressing genuine, intense emotion. It’s exactly like his own occasional inability with words.

Jesse beams, and Hanzo knows he’s worked out the same of Genji’s words. The cyborg releases them and Lena blinks out of the truck as quick as she can before shouting Jesse’s name, darting over to hug him.

“You absolute _wanker_!” she yells. “I missed you so much, you bastard, you don’t get to just _die_ like that -”

Jesse laughs. “Missed you too, you crazy-ass Brit.”

Lena slaps his arm, but she’s grinning widely. Lúcio’s there when she steps back. “Sorry we didn’t believe you, Hanzo. And sorry I couldn’t see you either, Eastwood,” he says, and hugs Jesse just like the others.

Something occurs to Hanzo then. He got here using the near-inexplicable mental path, but none of the others had anything like that. “How did you find us?” he asks.

Lúcio raises an eyebrow. “See, this is the cool part. We’re watching the tapes of Reaper to see if there are any clues or whatever, and then Hana realises he‘s  _signing_ with his spare hand. Translate it and we get coordinates that lead right here,” he explains, grinning.

Jesse stiffens slightly at the mention of Reaper, and Hanzo glances at him. Lena barrels onwards before he can talk. “Okay, okay, we gotta get back! Everyone’s waiting for you, Jesse!”

Jesse chuckles. “Alright then.” He’s moving to get into the truck when Hanzo reaches out to catch his arm.

“Wait,” he interrupts, and Jesse turns back with a questioning look on his face. He takes a deep breath. “I’ve been learning how to ride the motorbike. I rode here on it, and my intention has been to take you on a trip for a while now -“

Jesse kisses him. It tastes like sunlight and gunpowder and smoke and _Jesse_ , the smell that makes him him but somehow so much more vibrant. Hanzo kisses him back, arms reaching up to hug each other tightly.

“I love you, Han,” Jesse murmurs.

“I love you too,” Hanzo responds softly.

He feels Jesse grin. “You gonna drive me then, or what?”

“We will see you at base, Lena,” Hanzo calls over Jesse’s shoulder, disentangling himself and heading towards the bike.

Lena gives him a look, then giggles. “Sure thing, Hanzo. Have fun!”

Jesse rolls his eyes at her, and Hanzo pulls the cowboy after him. They climb onto the bike, Hanzo in front of Jesse.

“Are you ready?” Hanzo asks, twisting round to eye Jesse.

He grins. “You know I am, darlin’.”

Hanzo turns back round, grinning. “Good.” He grips the handlebars, and revs the engine.

They accelerate.

\- - -

Two days after they return to the base, Jesse’s integrated straight back into the community. Though his extra abilities remain, nobody’s put off by them, and it becomes almost a distant memory that he was ever gone. Hanzo falls into a routine of summoning Jesse each morning, and on Genji’s half-joke suggestion decides to get another tattoo to anchor him more securely to the physical plane.

“It has to be something _you_ ,” Hanzo had explained, studying a page of designs.

Jesse had leant over his shoulder, scrutinising the artwork. “You should just copy my shitty belt or something.”

He’d laughed and Hanzo had looked up at him, feeling his lips curve into a mischievous smile of their own accord.

“Holy fuck, Han, I wasn’t serious.”

Nevertheless, Hanzo had gone through with it and picked a tattoo that, to be fair, couldn’t have been more _Jesse_ if it had tried. The bold black letters are on his wrist, spelling BAMF to the whole world. The tattoo allows Hanzo to explore more avenues; they’re working on Jesse appearing at will, now. Contrary to Angela and Genji’s concerns, Jesse’s summoning doesn’t seem to ever deplete Hanzo’s energy, instead _restoring_ it. Angela gets very excited when they explain it to her, telling them that it contradicts all known mythology and, indeed, the Shimada knowledge passed on to her from Genji. Life hums along smoothly for the first forty-eight hours.

On the third day, Jesse calls a meeting.

“Alright,” he begins, standing up. Everyone is seated round the circular conference table on the far side of Gibraltar, looking at him intently. Hanzo sits on Jesse’s right. “As you know, this whole spirit thing is pretty new. However, I got somethin’ you all need to know.”

Hanzo straightens, remembering their conversation a few days earlier.

“While Talon had me I got to listen to a classic fuckin’ villain monologue by the one and only Moira O’Deorain,” Jesse explains brusquely, pushing past the mixture of shock and disgust on many of the old guards’ faces. “I learnt a couple interesting facts, including a couple about Reaper: as some of us know him, Gabriel Reyes. I’ve got four facts, and y’all know I ain’t always the best at speakin’, so I’m just goin’ to give them to you straight.”

The table is completely silent now, hanging on his words, all hyperfocused and intrigued. Jesse takes a breath.

“One: Gabe died before Zurich. Two: he came back as a ghost, or whatever the fuck I am. Three: Moira’s got control of him. He’s bound to obey her every command, or some shit like that, because she interrupted the bond that was supposed to form like it did with me and Hanzo. Four, and I hope this’d be kinda obvious: the person he was meant to bond with is here.” Jesse turns then, locking eyes directly with Soldier: 76. “You.”

“Fuck,” 76 mutters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the ending is very open to the next instalment in this au, which i’d love to write if you guys would read it. let me know if you’d be interested, and hit subscribe in the series if you want an email once i start uploading the r76 sequel!
> 
> for now, though, that’s a wrap on wndy! i loved writing this fic, and i really hope you all enjoyed reading it. thank you to everyone who left kudos or comments - i love you all!

**Author's Note:**

> thanks so much for reading! if you enjoyed, please leave a comment telling me what you think! don’t forget to subscribe if you want to keep reading.
> 
> until next time!
> 
> find me on tumblr at [blackwatchandromeda](https://blackwatchandromeda.tumblr.com/)!


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